Summer Flies

Not actual size

That could be a pun.  Summer always did seem to fly by when I was younger.  I can't say that it has slowed down as I age, but it does seem to be more miserable with the heat and the drought (except when my grandson comes over to mow the yard; then it rains--or threatens to rain).  Another misery that seems to be worse this year is the flies.  

The common housefly is all too common this year.  We had a bit of an invasion earlier in the summer, wherein my great granddaughter and I competed to kill every fly that we saw.  It was actually rather fun, and it brought back memories of East Africa.  

My late husband and I were given a house (duplex, lower floor) by the company he worked for in Dar es Salaam.  The living room had a sitting area with a built in divan shaped like a horseshoe.  There were windows on two sides of the room and ventilation slats.  The flies were everywhere--everywhere in East Africa.  My husband, both handy and clever, bought mosquito netting (screen wire for windows was not available in Dar right then) and stapled it to the outside of the windows.  That protected us from mosquitos for the most part, but flies are quite clever in finding a way into the house.  We had several fly swatters, and, lacking TV or other entertainment, we often sat in the living room in the evening, talking and killing flies.  I recall with some pride my "winning score" of five flies with one swat.

I would usually sweep up the day's debris and the dozen or more dead flies we had killed and dump it all in the trash can before we ended the evening and went to sleep.  A few times, of course, I was tired (or lazy!) and left the pile to be dealt with in the morning.  After a while, I noticed, when I did that, that the flies were missing from the pile.  I had thought they were surely dead the night before, but apparently some of them must have recovered and flown elsewhere.  

One evening the mystery was solved.  We heard a splat sound from the kitchen.  I ran in to see what had happened and saw the kitchen gecko on the floor.  He normally lived on the ceiling, but, it seems, he had been overindulging in the free banquet that we were providing in the evening's trash pile.  He had apparently gotten too fat for the little suckers on his feet to hold him on the ceiling.  So, splat!

This summer, we had a second infestation of flies.  Tiny red ones.  They were a misery, and they were too small to hit with a fly swatter.  I eventually searched the internet to find out about red house flies and discovered fruit flies.  The apple in the fruit bowl!  Summer entrances and exits, with the door held open too long, and that feast in the fruit bowl had attracted a mama and her babies.  Not feeling sentimental, I found an light trap with sticky inserts to catch them.   When that didn't work fast enough, I discovered that a bowl of apple cider vinegar with a little dish soap to break the surface tension of the liquid might work.  It did, like a charm.  

As I am preparing for another adventure in New York, I thought to clean up the light trap and insert a sheet of stickum in case any more surprise visitors show up in my absence.  The used one was fully covered with the remains of dozens of those pesky fruit flies.  Sadly, when I removed the sticky part of the trap, I found a little lizard (deceased) stuck to the surface on the back side.

I'm a little surprised that there is a lizard in my house.  Among other things, Biscuit may be old and house bound, but she is a hunter, even if it's just to catch whatever it is that is moving under the blanket (my foot!).  Still, I'm a little sad that my light trap caught the lizard.  If the trap hadn't been there, maybe the little lizard could have feasted as our gecko in Dar es Salaam did.  Maybe if nature had been allowed to do its thing, the fruit flies would have eventually succumbed to the lizard's hunting prowess.  I have to say that it would have been miserable for me, so I'm not going back to nature on this issue.  

In fact, I bought a half gallon of the apple cider vinegar.  I'll be glad when all this heat is over.  In the meantime, I am prepared with fly swatters and apple cider vinegar.  Still, I might give the light trap a rest, and see how it goes.  

Religious Wars and Their Ethics

A nativity to celebrate (and remember)

I've been digging around in old journals again, looking for tidbits for the Bibliography of Ethical Culture.  I renewed my membership in the Center for Inquiry, appreciating, as I do, their support for separation of church and state in Texas.  I participate in the Hill Country Freethinkers Association, which is, I believe, an affiliate of CFI.  Good people, good conversations.  We have a variety of religious beliefs, which we express easily and comfortably, respecting our differences and the nuances of belief that can come with many years of life and whole lot of PhDs at the table (plus one JD for seasoning).

CFI's journal, Free Inquiry, has a handy archive.  Of course, I'm going to check it for articles by Ethical Culturists (as far as I can recognize them).  EC writers were evident in the early issues, but not so much later on, so this effort may not take a great deal of time.  Indeed, the tone of the journal, after those first few years, seems a little more stridently anti-religious with the occasional active "debate" between Christians and freethinkers (I've only examined issues through 1999, so this is just an assessment of these early years).  

One issue that caught my eye, because I am now thinking about time and how we relate to it, is the Fall, 1993 issue, which focused on the question:  Should secular humanists celebrate rites of passage?  The issue talked about naming ceremonies, confirmations, weddings, memorial services and Christmas.  I tend not to think of Christmas as a rite of passage, but there it was:  Tom Flynn writing about "The Trouble with Christmas," a substantially shortened version, I assume, of his book of the same title.  Judging this issue by its cover--and its table of contents--it rather feels like there is a bit of a religious war in these pages.  Not that that is the viewpoint of the Editor, Paul Kurtz.  In this same issue, his "Letter from Berlin" says, very clearly:

Organized humanists—relatively small in number—believe deeply in democracy, tolerance, and human rights.

I'll take him at his word.  I have yet to read his contribution to The Ethical Forum (another short-lived Ethical Culture serial), but, just checking its contents, he seemed to refer to religious humanism in a positive way.  (I will report when I get a chance to sit down and read it more fully--and add The Ethical Forum to the Bibliography.)

All of this is context for my reaction to "The Trouble with Christmas."  It is one thing to recognize the history of the celebration, as far as we can know it, and its origins in the pagan celebrations of the winter solstice.  It is not entirely surprising to sense the negative judgments of those who associate the event with current religious belief systems and see the hypocrisy of the capitalistic version(s) of the holiday.  What struck me about Flynn's argument was the determination that humanists--being enlightened about the roots of the holiday--should then ignore it because we are no longer subject to the whims of nature.  That is, we know that the earth circumnavigates the sun on a tilted axis in a not-quite-perfect circle, which gives us seasons that we are able to predict.  Knowing the science, we no longer need to celebrate the return of the sun, so we can, in effect, ignore the solstice.  After all, most of us are no longer farmers, and we (mostly) have electricity.  Flynn says: 

Men and women can view the phenomena of nature with understanding and respect, instead of with superstition and uncomprehending fear.

A valid conclusion, but not, in my thinking, a justification for rejecting the season.  Flynn's perspective is remarkably urban, remarkably technological, remarkably ethno-centric (ignoring the achievements of Native Americans in understanding solar cycles) and, unfortunately, pre-climate change.

Two things struck me as I was (lightly) exploring this issue of Free Inquiry:

1. I am still repelled by language that denigrates another's religious belief--or, more specifically, denigrates another human being for holding the beliefs they do.  If I am free to believe as I wish, then others should be equally free.  If I am not to be persecuted (or insulted) for my beliefs, nor should any other be.  These diatribes against people of various faiths are no different--and no better--than the preacher who thumps his bible and shouts tirades against the godless secular humanists.  It is an unnecessary religious war that is fed by denial of "democracy, tolerance, and human rights."  Focus on that, I say, not whether the baby Jesus was born in a manger and angels sang "Joy to the World."
2. The earth does indeed circle(ish) the sun on its titled axes in its elliptical orbit and (I believe) we'd damned well better remember that.  It's a big deal for the tiny human ants living on its surface, messing with natural systems and forces that we cannot control, but we surely have screwed up.  This doesn't mean that we must now seek new ways to worship or pray to those screwed-up systems for relief from the big heat (or the big wind or the big water), but our "understanding and respect" might well extend beyond our own personal comfort to consider the human systems that we have created and continue to permit to alter and--for the sake of our human survival--damage our planet, consider and begin working to halt the damage and, if possible, reverse it.

I disagree with Flynn's reasoning, and I disagree with his conclusion.  I do not participate in Christmas celebrations to any great extent for mostly personal reasons.  The Ethical Society of Austin has an annual Solstice Celebration where we share songs and stories and favorite readings.  Last year I read "The Hunting of the Snark, Fit the First" to those gathered.  This year, I think I'll read "Fit the Second."  The language and rhythm is worth hearing (to my mind) even more than the "nonsense" words, despite the fact that it has nothing to with the season.  It is, in any case, a moment to share with friends and enjoy each other.  

Privately, I have been known to light a candle to celebrate the returning of the light.  Even as far south as Texas is, those short days and long nights can be dreary.  If I happen to notice the date on my calendar and have enough mental bandwidth to connect it to the movement of the sun, I have lit that candle in solitude and gratitude, happy to think of longer days and mehr licht.  

Is that a primitive response to nature?  Is that an ignorant response to the solar cycle?  No, it is my human acknowledgement of my human connection to the environment in which I live and--with "Fit the Second"--will be my human acknowledgement of my human need to connect with other humans with peace and goodwill.  We don't have to buy a tree, decorate our house, or go into debt with excessive gift giving to maintain either connection, but, I believe, we need both.  In the first days of winter, its good to take a moment to appreciate both.

Every Sperm Is Sacred (Not)

World Population Day, July 11
Commemorating the day (in 1989) when the world's population
reached 5 billion

I had a good laugh recently about a serious subject.  My subject in this post is not sperm, but the joke is, although, I suppose the joke is not funny either.  Jessica Grose has written an excellent piece for the New York Times talking about male fertility, as in male sperm counts seem to be on the decline--worldwide.  Her point is that new and more persuasive research is validating the conclusion about sperm rates, noting that it is time for a shift in the viewpoint that tends to blame women for any issue related to fertility.  That is, just as men (IMO) need to step up and do their fair share of work around the house and family, they also need (in Grose's opinion, with which I concur) to accept that it takes two to tango and/or make a baby, so get a check up, for garden seed.  OK, she was more polite.  But the effects of plastic on the endocrine system--which makes sperm--which makes babies--is becoming ever clearer through the research that is being done to figure out what effects our extensive use of fossil fuels is having on our bodies.

One small paragraph in Grose's fairly long essay, just quietly and gently inserting itself before the discussion moves on, stated a point that was already fairly shouting in my mind by the time I got to it:

At the very least, men should be aware that half of all infertility cases are caused by male infertility. Not just because it may make them start embracing healthier lifestyles if they hope to have children some day, but also because if they are intimately aware of their own deficient sperm, they might be more motivated to push for the policy changes that would really help fix male infertility on a larger scale. [emphasis added]

Yea, verily.  Perhaps men, with their well-known fascination with their own junk and its potential uses, might pause their intense focus on the body part and look at the system that makes that body part so important.  No, not orgasm, but the purpose of that orgasm, which is not fun and games but survival of the species.  The fun and games part is just part of the incentive to produce the orgasm which is in turn meant to promote the survival of the species.  The sensation of orgasm, in evolutionary terms, is a by-product, not the ballgame (no pun intended).

I have been continuing my search for publications by Ethical Culture's thought leaders in various serials over the past few days.  One such serial is Free Inquiry, a publication of the Center for Inquiry.  (My work with that serial is just beginning, but already I can note that Ethical Culture's presence was much stronger in FI's earliest years than in later years.)  One item that sparked my attention, however, was its cover story for Spring 1999:  "The Population Bomb--The Fallout Continues," illustrated with a mushroom cloud.  The articles and opinion pieces inside range from "India's Population Time Bomb" (Paul Kurtz) to "Playing with People's Lives" (Craig Lasher) and reflect what we have heard for some time about the concerns with increasing population on a finite planet with finite resources.

These articles caught my attention because the opposite stories have been filling our news media recently, given some impetus by figures in the current administration, to reflect concern that, in fact, the birth rate is declining in many countries, causing concern (drama) about population decline.  That, in turn, has led to recent moves by the current administration to incentivize birth and push back against various forms of birth control.  I thought, seeing the FI issue, how ironic that we have seen such a turnaround in public discussions.  And yet, the same arguments against the concerns related to over-population and now for the concerns about population decline are still very much present, wolves in sheep's clothing.

• Women must have all possible babies (no birth control, no abortions, no choice).
• Men must make sure that women have all possible babies (men are still the majority in all US halls of government, with, perhaps, some local exceptions).
• Some people--meaning white people--are still more important than others (not all countries are seeing this reduction in fertility, but they are not "white countries").

Oddly enough, in re that latter bullet, those non-white countries have less robust economies.  Is there a correlation between those economies and the prevalence of plastic?  I couldn't say, since my experience in a couple of those economies is older than the FI issue that I was reading.  Certainly there were plastics in the supply chain, but the lifestyles were (in those days) seemed less reliant on plastic-packaged "convenience" items.  My perceptions and recollections are insufficient for any conclusions, but they are enough to raise the question.

And that question brings me back to the joke.  Grose ended her essay with the suggestion that, instead of our national anthem, we should start playing "Every Sperm is Sacred" at national sporting events.  I had to laugh when I watched the video.  But I am deadly serious--if the bros are so damned concerned that we are in a population decline, why don't they address the root cause for their own infertility?  Why don't they spend some time solving the problem of excess plastic in our environment and our bodies instead of looking for ways to blame women for both the cause and effect of the mess they have made? Not that I'm advocating for more sperm, mind you, but all of us would be a lot healthier if we weren't eating and breathing plastic.

System Upgrade

Not quite a self portrait, but you get the picture
Image by Canva

 As we move on from the Information Age to the Age of Artificial Intelligence (assuming that that is what the powers that be will call it), I find myself in the midst of a disturbing number of system upgrades.  For me, it started with Windows.  Mind you, it actually started with DOS.  I was very excited about the new user interface (UI) that came with Windows.  I can recall thinking, at one point, that we didn't actually need to upgrade from Windows 3.0.  I was quite happy, functioning quite well, getting my work done.  And then came a series of upgrades, some better, some not at all better, until we came to Windows 10.  After all of those system changes, I really don't understand why I am stuck on Windows 10.  Perhaps it is that Windows 10 has been a pretty good system; perhaps it is that I am just used to it now.  An important point--for me--is that I, in fact, have a lot of money invested in Windows 10 via the various pieces of electronic equipment I have that run on that OS.

Now Windows insists that I must upgrade to Windows 11.  It's free, of course, unless my equipment is not up to their standards.  Of course, my equipment is not, so I have to buy a new desktop computer, a new laptop computer, and on down the line.  I am a tad grumpy about all this, and not merely because of the cost.  

I have, over the years, been a happy supporter of all of this electronic improvement.  I am, after all, my father's daughter.  While the arrival of transistors eventually halted his exploration of the electronics of his youth and maturity (radio, tv, vacuum tubes of all sorts, with the added excitement of cameras and films), my father taught me curiosity, experimentation, and a general love of the tools that we can use to live and learn and explore the wonders of this world.  The catalytic converter halted my ability to tinker with the car, but I have kept up with the use--if not in any way, shape, or form the programming of operating systems--of various electronic devices.  I have been known to install a bit of RAM; I have pulled hard drives to save the data before getting rid of the rest of the computer.  This is say that I am not a complete blank when it comes to electronics.

Recently I received a notice that Samsung, or maybe Google, won't support the operating system of my current cellphone, that I had a short time in which to get a newer model with a more recent operating system.  This, too, made me grumpy.  Cell phones are (increasingly) expensive, and I paid full price for this one in 2017.  It took a while to overcome the grump to start looking for a new phone.  I did eventually find one on the lower end of current prices.  Yesterday I drove to a nearby town to get it (it was not available locally and I wasn't sure how to transfer my data from my old phone if I ordered the new one online).  I asked to have my data transferred to the new phone, little realizing what an incredible amount of time would be needed for that, but that's another story for another day.

The story for today is that I now realize why I have been so resistant to Windows 11.  The phone, a Samsung 16, has been setting itself up with various reboots and installation demands for almost 24 hours.  In the process, I have seen the degree to which my cell phone provider and other corporations that have found a place on my phone are intrusive.  That is, how much these corporations now know about my location, my finances, my relationships, my interests.  In some cases, I have had the opportunity to reject an installation or setting that would invite in a bombardment of advertising or additional "sharing" of my activities and interests.  In other cases, it seems, I either had no choice or didn't notice the opportunity.  While I think I will enjoy this new phone, I can see that I have a lot to learn about its operation and its intrusion.  I suspect I will also be spending a lot of time trying to assess the level of intrusion and push back wherever I can.

As for Windows 11, the intrusion continues.  I have purchased a "new" (refurbished) mini computer, but I have yet to set it up.  I also purchased a "new" (refurbished) laptop, and I have been using that for several months.  It is more powerful than the older one, so I felt less grumpy about that particular upgrade.  However, the whole period has been a constant battle with Windows, fighting to keep my work, my data, on my "device" and not in their online storage.  I don't want to store my data on OneDrive, thank you very much.  Nonetheless, Windows continues to nag me to do just that, and sometimes, when I'm not paying very close attention, Windows will just "helpfully" save my data to OneDrive anyway.  The laptop is mostly used when I travel, so my struggle against OneDrive is just part of that experience.  At home, I have not had that extra tension as long as I delayed setting up the mini.  Still, I suppose the time has come to get that process started while I am on high alert to the risks and possibilities of intrusion.

Why am I babbling about this?  This morning, as my new cellphone was (endlessly) setting itself up, I saw that I had missed a call from an unknown number.  I touched the number on my screen, and the new phone gave me a complete call history.  This was a number that had not been entered in my Contacts, but I have had interaction with the caller several times before.  My bad that I hadn't entered them in the Contacts list.  Then I googled the number.  It was a colleague at NYSEC, and the search result pulled up his name, his wife's name, his home address, his children's names, his previous addresses--and, for a fee (which I did not pay) his legal and business connections.  This was too much information based on a phone number.  I then search my own name and found some of my past addresses and other information.  Not, thankfully, my whole life, but still an unsafe amount of information available with just a name search.  

As long as we lack either government regulation of these information scrapers and as long as the corporations that can find some way to make money from our information do not consider the ethics of their scraping of our information, especially our personal information, we will have to find our own ways to protect our privacy and safety.  In my case, I rather wish that my own mental operating system could have a quick up grade to give me more understanding of how these newer systems operate.  A system upgrade for Boomers, I guess.  Failing that, I have to do what I can to root out these intrusions and stop the steal.  

Addendum:  I have now entered the caller's name in my contact list.  I have set the old phone aside for use as a bedside alarm clock and bedtime reading device.  My new mini is refurbished, so I consider that an environmentally sound way to upgrade.  The old PC (also a refurb) may still be needed around my home as another workstation; but I will just not be able to leave it connected to the internet.  If I don't end up with another workstation, then I will take it in for recycling.  

Coffee Concerns and Compromise

My favorite mug

I wrote a few months ago about my concerns about my coffee.  I wanted to improve my carbon footprint, however slightly, but sticking to my decision to avoid plastic jars for my coffee and not to purchase products from Nestle, with the added step of reducing the fossil fuels needed (as far as I can tell) to bring my coffee to me.  That added step involved choosing my coffee from sources in the Western Hemisphere rather than the Eastern.  Well, it made sense to me.

That was in January, posted on the very day that Trump took his oath of office.

Then the Vigoro hit the Mixmaster, so to speak.  There were a slew of presidential orders signed on that first day and more yet to come.  The initial impact was for my selected source of instant coffee in a glass jar, not produced by Nestle but produced in the Western Hemisphere:  Target.  Target almost immediately caved in to the call to eliminate DEI from its company policies.  This is not the first time that Target has had some iffy stances on social issues.  I was not surprised to see the community call for a boycott of Target.  I went along with the Target boycott during Black History month quite willingly.  Except for a necessary visit to Target last month while in another city without transportation (the store was a block from my hotel, and I needed some supplies--including coffee), I haven't set foot in a Target store since they cancelled their DEI policies.  Human rights and the right to be treated fairly, without regard to factors of identity, is something that I believe in quite strongly.  

At the same time the rollback of DEI programs was being pursued, Trump was pushing tariffs on various countries for various reasons.  His weapon (tariffs) for economic policy (blackmail and extortion) and his waffling back and forth on when and how much to charge other countries (TACO) created a lot of uncertainty.  For my part, I had to join with all of the businesses--and consumers--who tried to keep up with his constantly changing policies and consider how they might affect my own bottom line.  Frankly, I have no idea about my bottom line.  Economics is way too complicated for me.  I have financial advisors who try to explain things to me--for my own good--and all I can see is a blurry, cloudy, white screen of foggy, mishmashy stuff.  

OTOH, I do understand coffee.  That is, I do understand that I need 1 to 2 cups of coffee every morning--not more--not later--black, no sugar--please and thank you.  Failure to have those cups means (a) a very miserable period of caffeine withdrawal (been there, done than, not gonna do it again if I can help it) and (b) a slower start to my morning at the keyboard than I care for (time flies; I need to work when I can).  

So, just like a lot of American businesses fearing the effects of these tariffs, I started stockpiling my preferred brand--in a glass jar, not manufactured by Nestle, but not, for the time being, sold by Target.  I now have several jars of Cafe Puro in my pantry, all purchased at good ol' HEB, which seems to keep chugging along, supporting libraries and other entities that Trump wants to do away with.  I do not yet have enough coffee to last through the entirety of his term, so I will do my slow stockpiling as long as I can afford it.  I will even put a little bit smaller portion of coffee in my cup (when I remember) so that I can make it last longer.  If all else fails, I suppose I could even try to limit myself to just one cup of coffee. At the moment, my coffee habit is likely to cost me an extra 10% from the EU tariffs, and I can handle that for now.  I couldn't handle the crazy tariffs Trump is trying to impose south of our border (and I am still not happy with Target).

This is about compromise.  I have values that I defined.  I had actions intended to support those values.  I encountered obstacles to my intended actions.  I then had to balance one set of values against another and choose my subsequent actions.  I do not feel good about my choices.  Why?  I think the boycott of Target was justified, and it did have a significant impact.  Whether that will be a lasting impact--affecting company policies and/or Target's tendency to waffle--is yet to be seen.  On the other hand, I didn't give up my coffee.  I even picked up some Cafe Bustelo when I felt I had to shop at Target for my needs while in Philadelphia last month.  In the grand scheme of things, my morning coffee is a minor factor.  Moreover, I also understand that this a personal preference and, therefore, a personal problem.  Nonetheless, it is one that I hope to resolve in my favor as long as possible.  While I have a little bit of a justification that need is as important as desire in (a) and (b) above, I am still not clear in my mind that I am making the right choice.  My conscience is bothering me, so I still have to figure out why--and what to do about it.

I will think about it over my second cup of coffee.

As Time Goes By . . .

Matthew Ies Spetter

I am working rather intently these days on assorted projects for Ethical Culture.  Most of this work is done under the auspices of the New York Society for Ethical Culture and the various programs in which I participate.  One of those programs is the Archives Committee, which I chair.  That can take up a lot of time now and then.  The other program is one which is going to take up a fair bit of time today and perhaps over the next few days.  The project of focus at the moment is writing a feature article for the new journal of the Ethical Culture Institute @ NYSEC:  The Annals.

The feature article is a "spotlight" of sorts on Matthew Ies Spetter, a leader for the second half of the last century and the first decade of this century.  My goal is to get several of his platforms, which have now been digitized, posted on the web for others to read.  I hope to do this with all of the leaders from NYSEC and from Ethical Culture in general.  The quality of the lectures, of course, varies.  Adler's own lectures were sometimes a bit of a mess, taking the long view of hindsight.  Even so, too many of our current members have little contact with people who have been trained in philosophy or the mainstream of our history of thought.  This is my effort to facilitate a little self-help.

And so I come to M. I. Spetter's platform of December 24, 1995:  "'As Time Goes By . . .':  Our Struggle to Connect."  Come September 15, it will be published online for all to read.  In the meantime, the first paragraph has already sparked my thinking about time. This post is not about Spetter, but about time.

Time is, I believe, a human construct.  Today is August 3, 2025.  We are taught where the "August" comes from (Augustus Caesar, not to be confused with Julius Caesar, who got July).  So, today we "honor" a dead emperor, who was also called Octavius.  This is the year 2025 by some accounts.  It has different numbers in other accounts.  This "year" is part of what sparked my thinking this morning:  We don't actually know how many times the earth has gone around the sun since this solar system came into being.  This could be the year 4,000,000,025 for all we know.  As for the 3, once you have the year and the month, I guess the actual day is pretty much, well, whatever.

Except.  When I typed the date, I mistakenly entered a 2 instead of a 3.  I corrected it and thought "Time really is flying."  The difference of one day, and yet I feel the pressure of the passing days.  Part of that pressure is self-imposed as I try to meet these self-imposed deadlines and goals..  Part of that pressure is the external deadlines that come from others, both near and far.  I have something to do on the 10th, so I have an obligation to others to honor my commitments to them by that date.  The State of Texas has assigned an expiration date to my drivers license, so I have to take care of that--in person--before that date.  The list seems to be quite long these days.  

Another pressure is life itself.  I'm not getting any younger.  The reality is that I am well past the halfway point in what is possible for a human lifespan.  These days the pressure that I feel from the passage of time says that I cannot waste what time I have left.  That in itself is odd.  What am I wasting?  Why not try to get the most enjoyment I can out of these last years?  Why not indulge myself in, say, the sensuous delight of vanilla ice cream with a sprinkling of crumbled Texas pecans?  

I feel this incredible pressure on my time because there is so little of it in any given day--and an unknown but definitely limited number of days left in this life.  I am performing a service for Ethical Culture in the work that I am doing.  At the same time, I am enjoying the hell out of it.  I love discovering something that has not yet been entered in the Bibliography.  I love the excitement of being able to add to that list, and I love searching the internet to try to find the book or article online so that I can see it, read it, and, very importantly, confirm its bibliographic history.  I love seeing a reference that I don't understand.  Well, of course, I want to understand it, so that means more searching and study.  I become a detective when searching for details of publication, of history, of connections to Ethical Culture, of connections among people and groups.  

At the same time, I find myself resenting interruptions.  The phone.  The door.  Even the cat.  Even my bladder.  Interruptions can interrupt my train of thought; then it might take time--even days--before I can return to the work that had me so absorbed prior to that interruption.  One consequence is a pile of "work in progress" projects that need my attention, sitting there waiting for me after that one interruption pulled me away.  It is my natural, probably human, attitude that makes me resent these interruptions, wanting to continue the pleasure of the work that I am doing.  Indeed, it might be compared to the delights of vanilla ice cream with a sprinkling of crumbled Texas pecans.  To indulge myself in that delight is to indulge in pleasure that, in some ways, will ultimately be harmful to my health (especially at this late point in my expected lifespan, given the effects of sugar and fat on my liver).  Indulging in my beloved work on the Bibliography--and the hoped for Ethical Culture Online Library--in important, not just to me, but, I believe, to others.  

Nonetheless, I can (finally) see the harm that I do to myself by spending so much of my time immersed in this work.  By resenting the interruptions, I am also resenting the intrusion of others into my life.  By "burying myself" in work, I am burying myself away from friends and family and the relationships that are key both to maintaining my humanity and to growing my sense of ethics.  Yes, I can (and do) grow in my understanding of ethics by reading and studying the work of those who have contributed to the body of thought associated with Ethical Culture.  Yes, I am performing a service for others, performing an ethical action, if you will, by doing this work.  But this work, alone, will not allow me to practice my ethics in human relationships so that I can learn from the practical experience of those relationships, putting, as they do, all that reading and studying to the test.

In his second book, To Deny the Night:  Reflections on Life and Essence, Spetter wrote:

It is quite true that we are born and that we die, alone. But as we live, we exist within the reach of one another and thus can justify hope and the enjoyment of life by our deeds. The fact of solitary emergence and exit is not what constitutes human tragedy. Tragic is that life which remains in alienated abstinence of relationship and obligation.

The need to live in relationship to others--reciprocal relationships based on mutual respect, caring, and, importantly, sharing of self--is a constant theme in Spetter's writing and lectures, extending from the earliest works to which I have access to the latest.  I want to continue with this work--truly, madly, deeply.  But I also want to try to focus less on the passing of time and more on the opportunity that these interruptions provide.  To talk about the meaning of life with my grandson.  To share memories and laughter with a girlfriend.  To listen to the caller from a non-profit who seeks my support, giving them a listening ear even if I can't give money.  To see the humanity in the young fellow who knocks on my door, offering to mow my lawn.  These interruptions take time away from the work that I want to do, but they also, I believe, keep me connected to others, keep me human--and teach me the value of patience.  Time is a human construct.  To spend it with others is not to waste it, but to use it to build relationships, to share love and kindness, to nurture the seeds of the future.

The Blame Game

Not my cat
AI image by Mr Zed at Pixabay

When something goes wrong around my house, I think about whose fault it is.  Note that, except for those times when my grandson is more or less camping here before moving on to his next residence, there's just me and the cat living here.  But somehow, all too often, the first thought in my brain is that my grandson broke it, or my great grand-daughter misplaced it, or someone who helped me at some point in the past put it somewhere that I just can't find.  Now, all of these things are possible.  My grandson is strong.  He often tightens lids beyond my capacity to open them.  He almost never puts the twister tie back on the bread.  My great-granddaughter--a beautiful nine-year-old now--does have a history of walking around with my stuff and then walking away from it after depositing it in some other location.  The cat, well, she mostly just sheds everywhere and occasionally barfs where I am sure to step.

What strikes me in this is that (a) stuff occurs and (b) my brain should know that.  So why does my brain so frequently try to allocate blame for the stuff that occurs?

One answer that is given to that question has to do with control and power.  That is, blaming someone--anyone--can give a greater sense of control over a troublesome situation by identifying a "culprit" and thus justifying our anger and frustration with whatever has happened.  Andrea M. Darcy explores some of the reasons why we resort to blame (it's easy, it unloads backed up feelings, it deflects our own personal accountability, etc.).  Blaming others, she points out, also has its cost--in personal growth and positive relationships.

While it is clear that I may have some work to do with my brain and how it copes with the frustrations of daily living, I think we see this Blame Game playing out on the big screen of our country right now.  Just this morning, our new President's response to the tragic deaths of 67 humans in an air crash near Reagan Airport was to blame his predecessors in office for incorrect policies and DEI, of all things, for this accident.  While we may eventually see the degree to which human error might have contributed to the accident, the BG being played out before us is very definitely an example of the use of blame for power and control.  

The situation in the American Ethical Union is somewhat less clear, but the Blame Game is still being played.  When programs and services are not being provided, the tendency is to shift the blame--to one's predecessors, to a racist system, to lack of participation by others, etc.  Some of that may indeed be true.  What is lacking here is a willingness to accept responsibility for one's personal actions.  Perhaps even more importantly, what is lacking is any attempt to overcome any of these barriers with positive corrective action.  Blame, after all, is soothing.  

Things are going wrong in our AEU "house."  This has gone on for a while--and the "family" is starting to grumble.  It's past time, I think, to look--each of us--at our own responsibilities and hold ourselves accountable, yes, but, better, to look for ways to overcome the stalemates and obstacles that have stopped all progress on mission and purpose, and get back to work.  Together, if at all possible.

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Coffee Concerns

Glass jar?

I made a choice some time ago that I would stick with Cafe Puro for my coffee needs.  I based my decision on two things:  It comes in a glass jar, and Nestle doesn't make it.  I drink instant coffee because brewing coffee takes up time and space that I don't choose to give to that activity.  I started drinking instant coffee when I was living in Lamu, Kenya, while doing the field research for my dissertation.  Ma Rukia, my cook,* would boil a kettle of water on the tiny charcoal "stove" that she used and give me a thermos of water to last the rest of the day for my coffee (or tea) needs.  With a microwave, now I don't need the thermos, but I do like the convenience of having my coffee fairly quickly without a lot of fuss.  Once I became aware of Nestle's exploitive practices and then of the evils of plastic, I made my choice.

Cafe Puro is, however, made from coffee grown in the Philippines and manufactured and shipped from Germany to my local HEB.  I had been drinking HEB's generic brand coffee because the taste was acceptable, and the cost was cheaper than name brands, but HEB coffee comes in plastic jars.  I still use my old plastic containers from HEB's instant coffee to store my Cafe Puro.  The container with the red lid is with caffeine, the one with the green lid is without caffeine.  The plastic containers, of course, are safer in the kitchen in case you drop one.  (I'll think about microplastics later.)  Wanting to make a change to buying coffee in glass containers is what made me realize that only Nestle seemed to place their instant coffee in glass.  Not wanting to knowingly fund that corporation, I was relieved to find Cafe Puro available at my HEB.  I decided (rationalized, yes) that even though it was grown in the Philippines, I could justify it as honoring the sacrifices that my father made to fight for their liberation from Japan during World War II (issues of colonialism in the past notwithstanding).  As for manufacture in Germany, I decided (again, rationalized) that, since the ships that bring this little bit of coffee to the US are going to sail anyway, I wasn't adding significantly to the consumption of fossil fuels by buying it.  And, anyway, it wasn't Nestle, and I was reusing the old plastic, and recycling the glass, and, well, doing my best.

Now I'm sitting in my hotel room in New York, sipping the Cafe Puro that I brought with me in specially saved mini-jars, carefully protected from breakage while packed in my luggage, and thinking about the ethics of my coffee.  That led to googling brands of coffee made in the Western Hemisphere.  Welp, we still don't grow coffee in Texas, but there is a fair bit of the world's coffee grown further south.  I'm looking at Cafe Bustelo right now, grown in Colombia and Mexico, and . . . sold in glass jars.  Sadly HEB doesn't seem to stock this version of Cafe Bustelo (they have ground and K-Cups and individual packages of instant), but Target lists it in several versions.  I can't tell from the pictures that all versions are in glass; that will take a trip to the store itself (when I get home).

In Ethical Culture we talk about trying to do what is right, but "right" sometimes needs some work to define it.  So does the "do."  My reasons for switching to Cafe Puro were an attempt to find a better way to get my daily caffeine, but now I think it's time to go a step further.  When I get back home, I will go to Target and see the Cafe Bustelo jars for myself.  If the local Target doesn't stock what I want (sustainably grown coffee with reduced shipping costs packed in glass jars), I can always order it for delivery--which leads to the next set of questions about what is "right" and what to "do" in regard to Amazon.

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*It was considered "bad form" for an mzungu to live on the island without hiring local residents to work in some capacity.  Ma Rukia cooked and cleaned and helped with laundry, but she also became a trusted advisor who helped me understand more about the local culture and its norms.  I couldn't have managed without her help.

In with the New, Out with the Old

How can we be sticky?

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That seems to be the way we think these days.  If it's old, throw it away.  If it is old, something--anything--new will be better.  Unfortunately, there is no "away."  If it is material and old, it has to go somewhere.  If it is non-material and old, there is that thing about "tried and true" to be considered.  There is also that problem of defining (and agreeing upon) "better."  I suppose this makes me a hoarder of both things and ideas, but I'd rather think of myself as someone who appreciates the value of things (whether physical or intellectual) as useful objects, even if they only serve to help me understand the world a little bit better.

So, it's a new year.  I am cleaning and clearing a bit.  I ran across an old document from my community organizing days.  It's so old, it was printed with a dot matrix printer.  The title is "Telephone Committee," and the entire (one-page) document is a plan for communicating within a community about events, issues, and needs.  There's a committee chair, 4 committee members, 4 groups of contacts with telephone numbers, and the mandate is simple:  connect to our neighbors, inform them of issues and events, listen to their concerns, bring those concerns back to the center of the organization.

Times have changed, of course.  Most homes no longer have a single "land line" for the whole house to use.  Email and texts have largely taken the place of personal phone calls.  Neighbors seem to meet face-to-face less often (although some may communicate through online groups via Facebook or other platforms).  If I were to propose that we form a Telephone Committee to my neighborhood today, I would be laughed at as out-of-touch and a technological failure.  

Even so, seeing that old Telephone Committee list brought back a reminder of the social context as well as the technological context.  Yes, we have new tech and new ways to communicate these days.  But, look again.  One of the major problems facing our nation today is loneliness.  Our nation is divided by technology that transmits false messages with high persuasiveness.  Our social institutions are literally crumbling around us as we lose confidence in those who lead and/or serve us.  

That Telephone Committee list, however, spoke of a social connection among the homeowners of a single neighborhood.  Despite diversity in age and income and social history, there was common concern with environmental issues, public services (and lack thereof), local government actions that would affect the comfort and cost of living in that neighborhood.  There was, in the limited framework of those (still quite broad) issues, a cohesion and a sense of belonging to a group with purpose and value.  The Telephone Committee played a role in developing and maintaining the group, serving as a connector between the more activist "leaders" and those who were concerned, but not actively working on the issues until called into action.  Rather than being "top-down," however, the TC was meant to serve as a conduit for "bottom-up" messages as well, so that the whole group could both listen and react as needed.  As an added benefit of those "connections," more informal social relations could be developed (e.g., friendships, business contacts, etc.) and "social security" within the group could be improved (e.g., neighborly help, assistance for seniors, childcare, etc.).

While the old days are certainly gone--and I don't live in that neighborhood anymore--I'm thinking that the need for a Telephone Committee might still exist.  Yes, we have email and Facebook and all that, but we still have need to "belong" as well as to "care" and to "act."  Putting this in the context of the Ethical Society rather than a physical neighborhood, once we get past the email part, the main basis of connection is the Sunday meeting.  Even that is problematic for building community since we are geographically so scattered--for the Austin Society as well as others.  While Zoom can bring even distant members together for a Sunday meeting, the question that occurs to me is how we can bridge the social distance that the physical distance is creating/prolonging/exacerbating.  

I think the ESOA Membership Committee is working on that issue.  A big part of any Membership Committee's job is not only recruitment but retention, and the initial effort of our new committee chair to focus on life events (birthdays) was good start.  I wasn't as "excited" about that effort last year as I was this year.  Last year I delayed telling the MC about my birthday until it was past--didn't want to be "asking" for attention or some nonsense.  This year, I was out of town for my birthday, but I had an electronic notice service from the USPS telling me that I had some mail from the MC waiting for me.  I knew it was a birthday card, and that pleased me.  Even better, when I got home, I had a card with a caring and uplifting message that made me feel, well, cared for and uplifted.  

The MC didn't stop with cards, tho.  Now we have a monthly gathering to craft.  The name of the group is a problem--"Stitch and Bitch" was offered by someone, but the current moniker is "Yarn and Yak"--which still makes me twitch--but the purpose of the group is "to build community."  As hard as it is to organize myself to leave the house and drive 30 miles, dragging a bag of beads and tools behind me (I don't knit), I see building community as an essential function of an Ethical Society--and an essential duty for me as a member of the Society.  This effort is a work in progress, but it is, I believe, worth the effort.  

The Austin Society is small.  Yes, we need to grow.  We also need to "stick."  Being "sticky" will help members find their place within the community that we have built (and are still building) and, hopefully, provide some of those social connections that lead to mutual support as well as to collective action.  

That being said, I know that the MC chair is working on another "old" tactic--the welcome letter.  I know for a fact that is an oldie but a goodie.  I received a welcome message (email) after my first visit to ESOA, and, never thinking that it might be "standard operating procedure," was thrilled to be welcomed and invited to come back for more.  (Cf. loneliness above.)  Unfortunately, the current version of our welcome letter is a tad out of date, and the things it promotes need some work.  That's another place at which duty seems to pop up.  The MC chair can't do this by herself, so the Communications Committee and others have some work to do.  All those links in the welcome letter need to be updated.  We could even work on being more outgoing about the things that we are doing:  If we find it interesting and satisfying to attend our events or take part in our activities, maybe others would too.  A new year is a good time to think about how we can do what we are doing a little bit better, even if we are doing it "old school," one person at a time.

Time to get sticky!  (And, great job, Lynn!)